The Last Gentleman
by Valenka
Summary: Some of your best memories will come from some of your most foolish decisions. They met in a bar in the middle of the night and Jenkins thought her angelic, it didn't even occur to him that the redhead was an Escort.
1. Chapter 1

Jenkins was about ready for the day to end, he'd spent all day going through a priceless collection of seventeenth century manuscripts in a way too hot room for the most impatient woman he'd ever met in his life. At least the hotel he was staying in had decent Bourbon. It would take him all week to go through the collection thoroughly before they could go to auction and he could leave New York, he just had to last that long and then he could return home to his peace and quiet.

The white-haired man had all but tuned out the hubbub going on in the up scale hotel bar as he sat there staring at his glass of amber liquid. It was getting late, a quick glance to his watch revealed the time to be ten-forty-five, maybe he could go to his room and read until he passed out; sounded like a plan to him. Jenkins was just about to down what was left of his drink and head off towards the elevator when a young woman who even in his peripheral vision he could tell was beautiful, sat down on the barstool to his left.

"Hi." She greeted him with a smile.

"Hello."

"Bad day?"

Jenkins didn't really look at the woman beside him, instead kept his green-hazel orbs on his glass, but it would have been rude to ignore her altogether.

"Yes, you could say that." He sighed. "My job can be time consuming and repetitive at times."

"What is it you do?" She asked with genuine curiosity which surprised the older man.

He flashed her a smile when she ordered herself a drink from the barman and nearly fell off his chair. _Wow,_ was the first word to come to mind. This woman beside him had long flowing red hair that cuddled around her shoulders like a cloak of fire and she wore an obscenely short black dress that showed off her cleavage without veering away from elegant. Her skin was like porcelain and those eyes, so perfectly cerulean. Jenkins hadn't seen anything so beautiful since the day he'd met Charlene... as much as he felt conflicted about it the woman before him might have been even more beautiful. It took him a moment to remember she'd asked him a question and convince his mouth to open and start speaking.

"I'm an appraiser. I determine how much certain artefacts are worth or if they are forgeries."

"That sounds fascinating." She told him as she paid for her drink, some colorful concoction and that smelt overly sweet. "What sort of thing do you appraise?"

Her eyes lit up when she smiled.

He answered after taking a sip of Bourbon. "Pretty much everything, literature is my speciality though. I'm a big fan of Samuel Beckett."

That smile grew wider. "You're a very smart man, aren't you?" The question was rhetorical but Jenkins found himself answering anyway.

"Not to pat myself on the back but yes, I am."

The young redhead laughed at that and Jenkins thought it angelic.

"I like you, you're funny."

"Well, if you enjoy my humour you'll adore my sarcasm and cynicism."

She laughed again and Jenkins just soaked it all up, it was wonderful. He couldn't figure out why she'd started talking to him but he was certainly enjoying it.

"You're job sounds fun, a new mystery every week. I don't see how that could end in a bad day. Was something fake?"

Frankly his 'bad day' had ended the moment she's sat next to him. Jenkins hadn't even been as effected by Charlene this quickly and he thought the sun rose and set in her eyes.

"No, not fake. Just, the manuscripts I'm examining are vast and my current liaison doesn't seem to realise that my work takes time."

"Ahh," she nodded to herself in understanding "Thinks everything should be done at the drop of a hat. I know people like that. I don't like them."

"Nor do I. Honestly, I don't particularly like people in general."

"Nor do I." She said to copy him though that smile never faded. "What's the best thing you've ever appraised?"

It confused Jenkins that this incredibly beautiful and young – no more than twenty-five – woman actually seemed to want to talk to him. Shouldn't she have been sat there fending off young men not talking to grumpy old him? Jenkins thought for a moment, he'd examined so many things in his career but eventually something came to him.

"I once appraised an original, hand written, manuscript of _The Tempest._ "

The young woman's eyes went wide. "Actually written by Shakespeare?

Jenkins nodded. "Yes. The man himself. One was somewhat in awe."

"That had to be worth a fortune."

He breathed out a laugh. "Oh, it was. Do you know the play was originally called _The Triumph of Prospero_?"

"Really?"

"Yes." Nodded the older man as he took another sip of bourbon. "It's a little known fact."

Suddenly the bartender passed them and Jenkins registered a look on his face, he didn't quite know how to describe it, almost as though he felt pity for Jenkins or maybe disgust. Then the bartender's eyes found the woman beside him with the same look and it all clicked into place for the white-haired man.

"Oh, you're one of them."

"One of what?"

"A prostitute."

The redhead looked saddened. "I prefer Escort, it sounds less like I came from the gutter."

"Please don't misunderstand, miss?" He furrowed his brow.

"Nikola."

"Yes, that isn't your real name but fine. Do not misunderstand me, Miss Nikola, I am not judging you or your chosen profession. I am just saying that you are wasting your time with me. I do not pay for sex."

"I didn't think you did." She told him softly then glanced around the bar quickly. "I can pick out all the men in here that want an Escort, the women too. You don't."

That just puzzled Jenkins even more. "Then why are you talking to me?"

"Because you looked sad, and then you turned out to be very interesting. You're not like the men I meet. What's your name?"

He couldn't really deny her his name even if she'd lied about her own.

"Jenkins."

"Well, Mister Jenkins, It was nice to meet you. I hope tomorrow is a better day at work for you."

With that Nikola – or whatever her real name was – rose from her seat and left him sat there at the bar with only what was left of his drink for company.

After a moment Jenkins downed his drink and headed for the elevator, then he remembered, it had gone eleven and room service had ended. His stomach growled. That was how he ended up walking back into the hotel thirty minutes later with a bag from the only open Chinese take out place he could find. The white-haired man went up to his room pleased there weren't any other people around and headed straight into his room on the sixth floor. He dumped the bag on the glass coffee table and took his suit jacket off, he rested it on the back of the black leather couch and then crashed down to take the weight off, he loosened his bow tie. It was late and he couldn't be bothered with a plate and chopsticks were already in the bag. Jenkins took a can of coke from the plastic bag and opened it with a satisfying pop, he was just about to take a swig when he heard a God awful bang and a whimper.

The suit clad man was up and out the hotel door before he'd even realised he'd moved, he glanced down the hall to his left, nothing but his right wasn't so empty. Jenkins looked down the hall just in time to see a man much younger than himself throw a clutch bag at young Nikola's face who was slumped on the floor.

"Some whore you are!" The door slammed shut after that and all was once again silent.

Nikola started to cry.

"Nikola? Nikola, are you alright?"

Jenkins crouched down beside her and instantly noticed the red mark on her cheek, the man had struck her. That knowledge made his blood boil. She seemed to be looking at something that wasn't there and for a moment he wondered how hard she'd been thrown out of the room.

Nikola spoke through her tears.

"Mister Jenkins?" Carefully he helped her to her feet. "I'm fine, thank you."

"No, you're not. Come on, I'll get you some water."

Cautiously the redhead followed the older man into his hotel room and let him lead her to sit on his couch, he made quick work of getting her a glass of water which he handed to her as he sat down next to her so he could see her marked face.

"I don't think that is going to bruise."

"Thank you." She took a sip of water. "You don't need to do this."

"Nonsense. No one has the right to treat you like that." Nikola smiled fondly at that. "May I ask what just happened?"

She took another sip of cool water. "He em, he... he can't get it up. He got angry and then he set me off."

Jenkins raised an eyebrow. "Set you off?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I em, I have this thing. I'm a Synesthete." Nikola looked as though she expected him to ask her what that was.

"And you still manage to do this job?"

"It was this or be a janitor who couldn't pay her electric bill."

"You're very brave, aren't you?" That hadn't been intended to be said aloud, it belonged in his head.

"I wouldn't say that. I'm not really." Suddenly her stomach growled and her blue eyes went wide with embarrassment. "Sorry."

"Help yourself."

The redhead just looked at him. "What? No, I couldn't. You've already been so nice to me, Mister Jenkins."

He looked at her with the most non-threatening expression he could muster. He felt as though this girl was truly alone in the world.

"To be honest you would be doing me a favour. I always order far too much. Anything left would just go to waste."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Miss Nikola, I am quite sure. Tuck in."

Jenkins rose to his feet and refilled her water glass before rejoining her on the leather couch, when she made no attempt to move he started to unload the bag and passed her a bag of spring rolls. Jenkins was thankful when she took one and started to nibble on it.

"I don't know if you like squid but I'm somewhat addicted to the stuff. Like I said, help yourself."

"I do, and thank you. You really don't need to do this."

"Maybe not, but you're a young woman a man has just thrown into a wall and struck. You are also clearly hungry."

To him it was the only right thing to do, the noble thing, but to the young redhead it was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for her.

"You're the nicest man I've ever met. A real knight in shining armor." She smiled up at him and Jenkins breathed out a laugh.

"You have no idea."

"What?"

He sighed. "My name, It's Galahad Jenkins."

"Really?!" The redhead perked up and tucked her legs under herself once she'd kicked off her shoes.

Jenkins nodded. "My parents were historians, they specialised in Camelot."

"That's really cool. Suits you as well."

"Yes, well, it wasn't _cool_ growing up. That's why I usually go by my last name."

The unlikely pair ate in a peaceful quietude for a few minutes, Nikola sipping at her water while Jenkins devoured his beloved squid until the white-haired man broke the silence.

"Are you going to tell me your real name? It's certainly not Nikola." She was quiet for a while as she finished her spring roll, shoulders tense. "You do not have to tell me."

Jenkins wouldn't force the redhead to give him her real name but that didn't stop him wanting to know.

"No, it's okay. Just, no one has ever asked my real name before."

"One would assume that is because others you speak to are clients and I am not." However, if any woman could tempt him into paying for sex it was this one in front of him.

"No, you're not, are you. You're kind. And my name is Cassandra." In hindsight maybe she shouldn't have given her real name out to a stranger so quickly.

"That suits you far batter than Nikola." He said truthfully.

"Do you know why I chose Nikola?" Jenkins shook his head. "Because of Nikola Tesla."

 _Well, isn't he full of surprises._ "A unique choice, I like it."

"I thought so."

The two spoke of unimportant things until the conversation turned to literature, Cassandra was a marvel, he couldn't understand why a woman as incredibly intelligent as her chose to be a prostitute. Soon the food was gone despite Cassandra's protests that she couldn't keep eating so much of his meal and she actually started to relax.

"So where is home, Mister Jenkins?" She asked after a time.

"Oregon. Portland specifically."

"Must be nice to travel all over the place, I've never left the city."

"Why not? Surly you could go anywhere you choose?"

"I have, I have a health issue."

"You have a brain tumour."

Cassandra's eyes went wide. "How do you-"

"You said you are a Synesthete, and when I helped you up you seemed to be looking at something that wasn't there, you have hallucinations. All of your senses are criss-crossed, aren't they? Brain tumour is all it could really be."

"Most people don't even know what a Synesthete is let alone be able to figure out I have a tumour."

There was a hint of tears in her eyes and Jenkins felt guilty for having put them there.

"I'm not most people, Cassandra."

"Yeah," she smiled "I'm starting to see that, Mister Jenkins."

"Would you like some more water?" He asked as he gestured to her empty glass.

"Yes, please. Thank you."

The white-haired man rose to his feet and refilled the glass but when he set it back down on the coffee table she was asleep, cuddled into one of the white cushions. Most people would have probably woken her and told her to go home but not Jenkins; they'd already established he wasn't 'most people'. Instead, he went over to his bed and pulled the black comforter from it, gently he covered her over and then made quick work of tidying away the empty cartons. Once he was done Jenkins flopped down onto his bed fully clothed, he just managed to toe off his shoes before sleep too him as well; he'd been up since four the previous morning thanks to a screw up with his flight.

Jenkins did his best not to dream of blue eyes... but it didn't work.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning Cassandra awoke and instantly freaked out. She looked around but the man – Galahad Jenkins – wasn't there. The previous night came back to her as she rubbed sleep from her eyes and stretched obscenely, she'd clearly fallen asleep when he'd gone to get her some water. Carefully she stood and called out for him as she straightened out her dress, he'd not touched her... not that she'd expected him to.

"Mister Jenkins?" But no reply came.

Cassandra even knocked on the bathroom door to polity ask if he was in there but still no response came, then she spotted a note left on the glass coffee table beside her un-drunk water.

 _Miss Cassandra,_

 _I was called to work earlier than anticipated, I shall be at the auction house all day and will not return until quite late this evening. You are more than welcome to take a shower and please feel free to order room service._

 _Jenkins_

His handwriting was beautiful, intended and delicate without losing any hint of masculinity. A stunning calligraphy that didn't exist in the modern world of short hand and technology.

She stood there momentarily confused, he'd really left her in his hotel room? Did he trust her not to steal anything? That thought made her smile, no one ever trusted the prostitute, Mister Jenkins wasn't just anyone though, he'd already proven that. Cassandra chugged down the water before – for some reason – she tucked the note into her clutch bag. A sense of discomfort washed over her then, she essentially had full reign over a man's hotel room, a man who hadn't so much as lingered his eyes on her cleavage. It wasn't very often she met a true gentleman, in fact she may never have met one.

It didn't take very long for the redhead to decide a shower would be a good idea, she felt clammy and wanted to wash that horrible man off of her. Cassandra turned the shower on and then looked at herself in the mirror as she removed her dress, she was thankful Galahad had been correct and her cheek had bruised. The skin was a little red but that was about it, perfectly manageable. Cassandra's black dress pooled to the floor soon followed by her underwear and then she hopped into the shower and under the refreshing spray. After a moment of revelling in the warmth she reached out for Jenkins' shower get and popped the cap open, it smelt just like him, like sandalwood, all soothing. She'd only known the man a few hours and yet she felt safe and calm around him.

Her make up had run after tears and sleep so she made sure to wash it all away until she looked less like Alice Cooper and more like herself again. The Escort stood there a while almost as though she were avoiding the outside world; no, not almost, that was exactly what she was doing. It was her cellphone beeping that finally roused Cassandra from her inner monologue, she only stopped long enough of her way to her bag to wrap herself in a fluffy white towel. She pulled the small clutch bag from the couch arm and upturned it in search of her phone; Jenkins' note, pack of tic tacs, work phone, condoms, everything was emptied out of the bag until she found her phone. It was a text from Estrella. Apparently her thirteenth text from Estrella to be exact.

 **Estrella: C, where are you? Why didn't you check in last night? Are you okay? Why won't you text me back? Text me!**

Cassandra sighed, she'd completely forgotten about Estrella and their check in. Estrella was probably worried sick. Quickly she texted back.

 **Cassandra: I'm so sorry! I fell asleep and forgot, I'm okay though. I'll be on my way home soon & I'll tell you all about it when I get home :-) Don't worry. **

To be honest Cassandra was surprised Estrella hadn't mounted a full building search, she was the sort of woman that would. Could be an unstoppable force. The redhead shoved her phone and all the other items back into her clutch and went back into the steamy bathroom so as she could dry off and get dressed.

It was strange to smell of him, of course she never wore heavy perfumes or body sprays, some of the men she met were married after all; not that she was proud of that fact. The Escort dried her hair and slipped back into her clothes before she went in search of her shoes that had ended up underneath the coffee table, it would be nice to get back to her apartment and put on some big fluffy socks and just relax. Her stomach chose that moment to growl... rather unladylike and loudly. Cassandra remembered Galahad's note, he'd not mind if she ordered something but she wouldn't, he'd already been so kind to her and she couldn't make him pay for her breakfast on top of all that.

When Cassandra had run out of reasons to remain she took one last look around the hotel room, grabbed her clutch bag and finally left. She made her way down the long hallway of white and blue to the elevator and back to the lobby before heading across town to her tiny apartment.

It took nearly forty-five minutes thanks to the strange influx of traffic but Cassandra did eventually make it back home, the second she put her key in the door Estrella burst out of her own apartment door, a look of concern splattered across her face.

"Cassandra, are you alright?" She asked in that accented voice of hers. "Where have you been, I was worried sick."

"I'm sorry, I'm okay. Come on, you can make me some tea while I get changed."

The redhead pushed the door open and stepped inside quickly followed by her best friend who turned to the left and started to make Cassandra her tea in the yellow kitchenette while the redhead made her way down to the back of the apartment to her bedroom.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell happened?" Estrella called out as the kettle boiled. "I was terrified something had happened."

"I'm sorry." Cassandra called back. "I got thrown out of a hotel room by a... underachieving client."

When Cassandra returned to the kitchenette she wore an oversized gray hoodie, a pair of lilac shorts and the fluffy socks she'd longed for. Estrella had leant on the small island that overlooked the whole apartment, it was basically a carbon copy of her own home just with more bright colors and books, she looked horrified. Estrella and Cassandra had been best friends since they'd first met, escorts stick together and all that. They watched out for one another.

"I'm alright. Again, I'm sorry but yeah, I got thrown out and he hit me-"

"He hit you!"

Estrella was up off the island and around it in search of a bruise or a cut of some sort on the redhead's face.

"It's alright, everything is fine. He didn't hit me that hard."

"That's not the point, Cassie." A pause. "If he threw you out where have you been all night? Did he-?"

"No!" Cassandra cut her friend off quickly with a wave of her hand and wide eyes. "No, nothing like that. There... there was another man, I met him in the bar. I knew he wouldn't pay for me but he was so nice to talk to and funny." Cassie smiled at the thought of Jenkins. "When I got thrown out he found me, his room is just down the hall. He took care of me, fed me. He's really kind and very smart. He's an appraiser."

Estrella looked concerned, her brow furrowed.

"Cassie, you can't go getting attached." Estrella's tone was warning.

"What? No, I just met him. I'm not... I'm not attached."

She just stood there looking at her friend like it was ridiculous. Why would Estrella think that? Cassandra chose to ignore the expression Estrella was giving her and instead rounded the small island to finish making their tea; awkwardness lingered though.

"It was a shame he wasn't there when I woke up." Cassandra muttered to herself. "I never got to say thank you."

~X~

Meanwhile across town at the auction house Jenkins sat at the desk he'd been provided going through the manuscripts, his thoughts were still heavily focused on the young fire haired escort he'd met the night before. How beautiful she was. How intelligent.

When his phone rang he was genuinely grateful for a reason to look away from the ancient pages, his eyes had started to sting. A quick glance down to his cell on the desk beside him revealed it to be young Ezekiel Jones. The boy had been a thief for the early part of his life until Judson – the head of their company – had taken a chance on him. Jenkins answered quickly and put him on speaker then turned his attention back to his work, the sooner he got through it, the sooner he could get back to Portland.

"Yes, Mister Jones?"

" _Hey. Baird wants to know when you're on your way back, apparently there's something that requires your expertises. It's being transported."_

"Surly Flynn or Mister Stone can do it."

" _Nope._ " Said Ezekiel in a cheery tone. " _Gotta be you. I've run some internet searches and previous sales but, you know, I'm not you, mate._ "

"And aren't we all grateful for that." He muttered to himself as he picked up a magnifying glass. "What is the item that so requires my attention?"

" _A sword. I was told it references Camelot and your our Camelot guy,_ Galahad _._ " Ezekiel chuckled.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Jones." Jenkins rolled his eyes and then another voice came across the line, it was faint at first but quickly grew.

" _Is that Galahad, Ezekiel?_ " It was Charlene, clear as day. " _Tell him to save his receipts._ "

The older man sighed, she'd been telling him that for the better part of twenty-five years. Possibly longer, he couldn't quite remember any longer.

"I always do, Charlene." He told her.

" _Apart from that time you went to Belgium!_ "

Jenkins' brow furrowed. "That... that was fifteen years ago. Hoe long are you going to hold that over me?"

" _She's gone, mate._ " Said Ezekiel, the white-haired man could hear the boy's smile in his voice. " _And she'll probably hold it over you forever. She's a vicious little accountant, last week I forgot to get a taxi receipt and she nearly took my head off._ " A pause, small and hardly there. " _Seriously though, when are you coming back?_ "

"Not until at least the end of the week, there is more here than we were lead to believe."

" _Okay, I'll have Baird hold off on making any plans or promises. I went ahead and sent you a pack about the sword, you know, because I'm nice like that. It should be there by tonight. See ya!_ "

With that the line went dead and Jenkins was left in silence wondering why a text wouldn't have sufficed.


	3. Chapter 3

There was a knock on the Cassandra's door and Estrella strutted in a moment later in a flowing white dress accented with yellow and her hair pinned in place by little pearl clips. She looked beautiful, always did. The redhead smiled up at her from her place on the navy couch with her book.

"Hey, Cassie, I just took a last minute appointment with Will."

Ah, Will, he'd been a regular with Estrella for years now, he called her every time he came to New York on business without fail. Estrella, and by extension Cassandra, weren't quite sure what Will did but the knew it was something to do with banking. Estrella had never found the need to ask him during their liaisons, much too busy doing other things.

"He's not here very long and asked to see me. He's at the Lowell Hotel in room 208."

"Okay." Cassandra nodded as she tucked the bookmark into her novel. "Call me."

"I will, you know, unless any dashing men in their thirties offer me Chinese food." She laughed.

"Alright, I deserved that, and Jenkins isn't thirty... he's older."

"Forty?"

Cassie shook her head and Estrella's eyes shot up as she started to slip her earrings in, reasonably sized leaves of gold with little droplets that sparkled every time she moved.

"Fifty?"

Cautiously Cassandra gestured higher.

"This guy is in his sixties and you were making gooey eyes over him?"

"I was not making gooey eyes!" The redhead insisted almost as though to convince herself rather than her friend. "Galahad Jenkins was nice to me when he didn't have to be. There aren't very many gentlemen left."

"You can say that again." Estrella glanced at her phone. "I'm going to be late, see you later, Cassandra."

The dark-haired beauty turned to leave but stopped and turned back after a second or two.

"Why do I smell cookies?"

"Because I'm baking, silly." Cassie gestured to the oven. "They're almost done."

"Save me one? I'll see you later."

"Bye." Called Cassandra as the other woman left and the apartment door swung shut.

Estrella was wrong, Jenkins had just been a kind man who had a natural protective instinct. It wasn't like she'd ever see him again.

A few moments late the egg timer pinged drawing the redhead's attention, she bounced over to the oven and pulled the cookie tray out with a smile. Chocolate chip and perfect, like the pictures in cook books. Cassandra loved baking, to her it was a wonderful mix of math and physics that resulted in a perfect little treat. They smelt good and she'd made sure to bake extra for Estrella. While they cooled she rummaged around her kitchen draws until she found where she'd stashed her ribbons, pink was a no go but she had a very nice green one that she often used at Christmas. Baking was cheaper than buying presents, then again she only really had Estrella to buy for since her parents seemed to be entirely against Christmas and everything that went with it.

Around twenty-five minutes later while Cassandra was tying the bow her phone buzzed, sure enough it was just Estrella letting her friend know she was there, safe and more importantly paid. The redhead sent back a quick text and then returned to the cookies and bow.

~X~

Cassandra walked into the hotel she'd been in the previous night though this time she looked like a delivery girl rather than the dolled up image she usually presented and went straight to up to the reception desk where a tall man in a jet black suit stood.

"Hello," he greeted softly. "may I help you?"

"Em, yeah, could you make sure Galahad Jenkins in room three-thirty-two gets this please?"

Cassandra asked as she set the cellophane wrapped basket of cookies onto the desk. The receptionist nodded with a curt smile.

"Of course, madam. Is there a message as well?"

The redhead shook her head. "No, just the card." She gestured to the basket.

"Alright, I'll make sure Mister Jenkins gets it." He took the basket of cookies and set it on a large table behind the desk.

"Thank you."

Easy and painless, just as Cassandra had hoped. Jenkins had been so kind to her and she just wanted to do something nice for him. Hopefully he wasn't gluten free or allergic to chocolate or something strange.

As she made her way to the main door Cassandra spotted the man who'd hit her the previous night and he certainly saw her, for a moment she'd been intent on fixing her eyes on the ground and avoiding him entirely but then she spotted something out of the corner of her eye. As soon as he saw the escort he looked seemingly terrified and then she noticed the dark bruise that had started to form around his left eye. His head went down quick as he hurried past her to the elevator in a desperate attempt to avoid her.

Cassandra paused as soon as she got outside, she was confused. _Did Mister Jenkins do that to him? Is that why Brad looked so scared? But why would he do that?_

"He does seem protective." She mused to herself completely unaware that she'd switched from mental to verbal.

The redhead decided to ignore it for time being and then her work phone ran intent on snapping her out of her thoughts. It took her a moment but she eventually answered; since it was her work phone Cassandra put on her best smile.

"Hello, Nikola speaking." A brief pause. "Ahh, hi Darren. No my afternoon is free. See you in a hour and a half?"

It wasn't that Cassandra was ashamed of her job, it was a good, well paying job. No, it was more the constant pretending, she wasn't really one of those glamorous women with nothing but confidence like Estrella, she was shy and quiet. That and her Synesthesia interfered more often than not. She'd not planned on becoming an escort, she'd wanted to be a mathematician, how she'd gone from one end of the spectrum to the other she'd never known.

Still, this was her life and she had a date to get ready for.

~X~

Jenkins marched into the hotel at almost ten o'clock with a headache from the fluorescent lamp he'd been working under all day, all the white-haired man wanted was to shower and get some sleep but first he strutted up to the reception desk to ask if Eve's little dossier had arrived, thankfully it had.

"Thank you." Said the elder man as he took the thick envelope and turned to leave but the woman on the reception desk stopped him.

"Sir, a young woman left this for you earlier today."

Jenkins raised an eyebrow as a gift wrapped basket of cookies was handed over to him, it had a big green bow which – oddly – matched his bow tie.

"Did this woman have red hair?" It had to have been Cassandra, she was the only person he knew in New York.

"I wouldn't know, Sir, I wasn't here earlier today. All I know is that it was a young lady."

"Alright, thank you."

"You're welcome."

Jenkins took his envelope in one hand and cradled the basket with the other before he headed up to his room, as soon as the door shut behind him he toed off his shoes and set the cookies down on the glass coffee table. He stood there for a moment studying it with a furrowed brow, the info that Baird had sent him could wait. Carefully the suit jacket came off and Jenkins set it over the back of his couch without taking his eyes from the cookie basket. He smiled, it was very, _very,_ rare for him to get a gift, even rarer to get one from such a beautiful young woman. He noticed a card among the cookies when he unwrapped the cellphone.

 _To Mister Jenkins,_

 _The last gentleman_

 _Love Cassandra._

At the bottom was a cell number and Jenkins didn't know what to make of it. Jenkins didn't think he'd done anything special, just done the right thing and helped her. Frankly he liked Cassandra, she was sweet and far more intelligent than he suspected people gave her credit for. She was the only decent conversation he'd had since he'd stepped off the plane. Jenkins still didn't know why she'd left her number, he'd already told her he'd not pay for her – despite an evil voice in his head that suggested he did. Instead Jenkins ignored the basket and pushed the voice deep, deep down in favour of taking a shower.

The white-haired man stripped off his clothes and hopped in the shower, warm water dripped over his flesh soothing it. It only took him a second or two to notice that his shampoo had been moved which could only mean one thing... Cassandra had taken a shower. Jenkins instantly forced the thought straight from his mind. _Not appropriate!_ Not only was she less than half his age, she'd spent most of her life being objectified by men. Jenkins wouldn't disrespect her like that. Instead the white-haired man focused on his shower, hot, soothing water cascaded down his back easing the knots there.

Only when his fingers started to prune did Jenkins clamber out the shower and go in search of something a little more comfortable. Eventually he settled on a pair of slacks and a red polo, sometimes he forgot he actually owned clothes that weren't suits since he spent so much time in them. Not that it was a problem, he liked his suits, almost like the tailored fabrics were his armor.

Jenkins pulled out a book and read for a while settled on the bed amidst the soft pillows, he could have sat like that all night. At least until his stomach growled he could have. He was hungry but really didn't feel like eating a full meal? _Actually have I eaten anything today or just had tea? Just tea._ Frankly Jenkins had never eaten on a proper schedule. It was then that the white-haired man remembered the cookies. Jenkins slipped the bookmark into his book and rose to his feet and took one of the chocolate chip cookies.

They smelt great and tasted even better, Cassandra was clearly a very accomplished baker. It had been a very, _very_ long time since someone had gone to the trouble of baking for him. Jenkins couldn't help the hum of indulgence that slipped from his lips, it tasted perfect and chocolaty. Finally he reached for the card once again while he licked chocolate from his fingers as he looked it over. Maybe Cassandra just wanted to know he'd gotten the cookies, maybe that was the only reason she'd left her number.

"It would be rude not to thank her." He reasoned.

With a sigh Jenkins pulled his phone from his pocket and sent a text to the number she'd left.

 **Jenkins: Thank you for the cookies, Miss Cassandra. They are wonderful. You did not need to**

 **go to such trouble though. Jenkins.**

Unfortunately Jenkins had started with the cookies and his sweet tooth had taken over, so he reached for another cookie.

~X~

Cassandra was just on her way home from seeing a client when she got a text on her personal phone. She pulled it out of her bag as she made her way up the stairs to her apartment, Estrella was still out and probably would be for a while.

The redhead stopped dead in the hallway when she saw who her text was from. Jenkins. Galahad Jenkins, he'd actually messaged her. She'd been worried about leaving her number, it was to her personal phone not her work phone but the white-haired man didn't know that, she could have though Cassandra was offering him a booking. She'd never do that to him. Only after she'd slipped into her apartment did Cassandra finally read the text message, she'd expected... well, she didn't know what she'd expected but a pleasant message thanking her for the cookies, and it made Cassandra smile.

It was late and she was surprised he awake, then again she'd already established worked odd hours; they both did. Cassandra didn't know if she should text back, maybe it would have made her look too eager. She paused halfway to her room and sighed.

"For God's sake, he's a nice man you made cookies for, you're not dating him." She chastised herself.

Cassandra decided there and then she'd text him back in the morning and carried on down the hall into her room. The redhead stripped off her clothes and hopped into the shower for a much needed shower. She wished she could do something like Jenkins, his work sounded fun and he got to travel. That and it was legal which was nice. Galahad had been so animated when he'd talked of his work and the wonders he'd had the good fortune to handle, in fact, just thinking about it made her smile.

"Crap!"

Cassandra grumbled as she shut off the hot water and stepped out of the shower. Estrella had been right, she'd got the hots for him. The redhead did her best to push that thought from her mind as fast as she possibly could. Once she'd dried off Cassandra found her oversized pyjamas and clambered into bed where she wrapped herself up in thick yellow sheets. Cassandra yawned. What if Galahad had expected her to reply? That thought got the better of her surprisingly quickly and she grabbed her cellphone.

 **Cassandra: I'm glad you like them :-) Baking is sort of a hobby of mine, and I know I didn't**

 **have to but I wanted to. To say thank you, it meant a lot to me. The last gentleman**

 **remember? :-)**

Cassie re-read the message and hit send. About thirty seconds passed before the response came. Cassandra smiled. She took the opportunity to save his number to her phone.

 **Jenkins: Well, you are most welcome, Miss Cassandra. Also, you appear to be quite the**

 **accomplished baker, though now I fear for my expanding waistline.**

That made the young redhead chuckle, when she thought about it Jenkins was actually in _very_ good shape for his age. Rather handsome, tall, an old world charm.

 **Cassandra: I think you'll be alright. :-) Did you have a better day?**

She'd not intended to start a conversation but she had to admit it was nice. Cassandra wanted to ask about Brad and the sudden appearance of his black eye but she refrained, it wasn't the right time and she didn't want to risk offending him if he wasn't the one who'd hit Brad.

 **Jenkins: Yes. Far better, thank you for asking, Miss Cassandra. However, I had a dossier**

 **delivered tonight, seems I'm already required for a new item. No rest for the wicked.**

 **Cassandra: You don't have to call me 'Miss Cassandra' Just Cassandra is fine.**

 **Jenkins: Very well, just Cassandra. I should let you get to bed, it's late.**

She chuckled at that, it was a stupid little joke but sweet, stupid but sweet. He was right though, it was really late and Cassandra could stop yawning.

 **Cassandra: Alright. Goodnight, Galahad. I'm really please you like the cookies.**

 **Jenkins: Goodnight, Cassandra.**

The redhead set her phone down on the night stand and switched off the lamp plunging the room into darkness save for the sliver of moonlight that crept in through the curtains. She settled down against the pillows with a smile, her feet hurt but a good night of sleep would cure that. Why couldn't more men be like Jenkins? With a yawn Cassandra closed her eyes and slipped into slumber.


	4. Chapter 4

A little over a month passed and Jenkins had returned home to Portland. He still wasn't sure hoe but he and Cassandra had fallen into a friendship of sorts, they texted on a regular basis about all sorts of random things. That was how Jenkins found himself sat at his desk at The Library Appraisers choosing a dress for her. Cassandra had sent him a text for his opinion on which one went better with her shoes, both dresses were teal and would have matched well; to him the question was sort of pointless. He'd been about to respond when Eve appeared at his desk.

"Hey, Jenkins, quick question-"

The blonde cut herself off when she saw the picture on his phone; she raised an eyebrow. Clearly a woman's bed with two dressed lay out with a pair of heels sat neatly between them wasn't a usual thing for Jenkins... at least she didn't think it was. She couldn't resist some teasing.

"Hot date, Jenkins?"

His head snapped up. "What? No." He cleared his throat. "No, no, it's not like that."

Baird smiled but the teasing in it had faded. "You're allowed to date, you know. You're a handsome guy in an older man sort of way."

Jenkins huffed. "I'm fully aware I am allowed to date, thank you. This-" he gestured to his cellphone "is from my friend – Cassandra – she simply wondered which I thought went better with the shoes. She has a... _date_ later."

"Never heard of Cassandra before."

It was true, getting Jenkins to talk about himself or his past was like pulling teeth. He was their resident grumpy gus and weirdly proud of it. To be honest the only one at The Library Appraisers who knew him even remotely well was Charlene.

"There are lots of things you do not know about me."

Eve chuckled. "Yeah, because you're about as open as a block of cement."

Jenkins grumbled. "Is there a reason you're here, Miss Baird?"

"Just wondered if you'd seen Ezekiel? He's snuck out early, I think."

The white-haired man shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him though I would assume that your gut feeling is probably correct. Have you tried calling him?"

Eve nodded looking annoyed. "Yes, he didn't answer. Alright, thanks. Oh, you're needed at the auction house. Last minutes thing, sorry. Here."

She handed over a folder that he'd not noticed her holding before and the suit clad man took it with a large hand.

"Wonderful." He sighed.

Eve turned to leave but paused after only two steps and spun back around to face him; Jenkins really wished she'd just go away and leave him alone.

"Em, Jenkins, the one on the left is better with the shoes."

With that Jenkins found himself finally alone at his desk. He turned his green-hazel orbs back to his phone and sure enough Baird had been right; and it was nice to have a little support for his choice as well. Jenkins quickly texted the stunning redhead back.

 **Jenkins: I believe the dress on the left would be best, though I may be wrong since I don't wear dresses all that often.**

He felt a little strange helping an Escort pick out what to wear for a client but he decided to focus on the fact that Cassandra had genuinely valued his opinion enough to ask. By the time he'd gathered his things together for heading over to the auction house the redhead he'd somehow managed to befriend had texted back.

 **Cassandra: Hahaha! Thanks, Galahad. :-) I've got to go to work so I'll text you later.**

 **Jenkins: Alright. Bye, Cassandra.**

He'd wanted to add 'be safe' but had quickly thought better of it, surly she'd have found it patronising. Also, he'd not wanted her to think him overbearing, Cassandra was a grown woman and could do as she pleased.

The whole situation was strange to Jenkins. He'd become close friends with a prostitute. Well, that wasn't fair, he'd not become friends with her because of her job, that was just what Cassandra did and the reason they'd met. The white-haired man hadn't ever befriend people easily but Cassandra was different, he found it easy to talk to her. They actually had a lot in common, she was so very smart and kind; he was also fairly sure that all the confidence he'd seen from her had been an act, he could read people extraordinarily well and she was timid at heart.

Still, he had some last minute vase to appraise thanks to Eve. He was almost certain that The Library had no less dramatic way of dealing with things.

~X~

Cassie raced over to the café table where Estrella sat at an outside table and dropped down into the chair opposite her. The stunning goddess flashed the redhead a smile.

"Sorry, I'm late."

"That's okay. You alright, Cassie?" Asked Estrella as she looked at her friend.

The café is busy but thankfully the outside table they sat at was free of much of the hubbub; there was also a light breeze in the air.

"I'm fine, good." She assures without sounding overly assuring. "Sorry. Today ahs been a bit hectic."

"Oh?" Estrella leant forwards with a hint of curiosity but mostly teasing. "Feet haven't touched the floor?"

"Estrella!" The dark-haired woman just chuckled. "You know I don't like this job."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry."

The pair ordered their lunch quickly after that and made sure to get two large cappuccinos. They chit-chatted about trivial things while they waited for their lunch, or at least the did until a thought popped into Estrella's mind.

"Ooh, you know that new client I'm seeing, Declan." Cassandra nodded. "Well, turns out he's got a vampire fetish. Totally into the whole role play thing too, wanted me to call him Vlad. I got into the hotel room and there was a bloody coffin laying in the middle of the room, how he got management to agree to that I don't know."

"Bribe the Bellboy?" It seemed the only logical option to Cassie.

Estrella smiled. "It was actually quite fun. He really thinks he's Bela Lugosi though. I'm seeing him again next week."

Unlike Cassandra the brunette was confident and oozed sex appeal, she had been an Escort much longer than Cassie had and actually enjoyed it. Though Cassandra wasn't ashamed of her profession it wasn't what she'd wanted to do with her life and she certainly didn't want to do it forever no matter how good the money was.

"Do you remember a couple of years ago when you got that woman obsessed with zombies?"

Estrella shivered which made the redhead smirk. "Oh yeah, can't forget that unfortunately. Shame, she was beautiful but when they start wanting me to stick myself with needles to 'cure' myself, I'm out."

"Just be grateful she didn't ask you to eat someone."

Estrella grinned. "Like it wouldn't be the first time."

 _Probably should have phased that differently._ "Estrella, you're awful."

"Guilty."

Their coffees arrived then and the two women quickly got to sipping at the rich liquid; Cassandra had really needed that coffee.

"I've been looking forwards to our lunch."

"Oh?" Said the redhead once she'd set her coffee cup back down.

Estrella nodded. "Yeah, it's been ages since we did this."

Cassandra's brow furrowed. "We had lunch two weeks ago and you had breakfast at my apartment on Tuesday."

"Breakfast doesn't count." She insisted. "Lunch is different-" She cut herself off when she saw Cassandra had her face in her phone; something that was very unlike the redhead.

After a moment Cassie realised her friend had gone quiet so glanced up and realised she was being stared at. Cassandra's cheeks flushed.

"Sorry."

Estrella smirked. "No, it's alright. Who are you talking to?" She asked eagerly before returning to her coffee.

"It's Galahad-" In an instant she found herself cut off by her fellow Escort.

"Wait, wait, wait, you're _still_ talking to him?"

Cassandra nodded. "Yeah. I made him cookies like I told you and I left my number. We've been chatting ever since, he's my friend.

Estrella's brow furrowed. "Cassie, you're getting attached."

The Synesthete sighed. "I know but it's not like that. We have these really cool conversations and he's always a perfect gentleman. He taught me the basics of how to figure out if a painting is fake."

The dark-haired woman still didn't seem convinced, she'd been protective of Cassandra since they'd first met, she'd been the one to get her into the Escort business and felt obligated to keep her safe.

"It's just that it's really odd for an Escort to have a friend that knows and isn't one themselves. I'm not saying don't be his friend or pen pal or whatever, I just think it's unusual. _Especially_ with a guy his age. He can't really be in his sixties, how old is he?"

Cassandra shrugged. "No idea, I didn't think it was polite to ask. That and it wasn't really important. He doesn't know how old I am."

"Yes, but you're twenty-six so your age isn't in question here. And fair enough, I suppose I see your point."

A waitress appeared then with their much needed lunch and the two women tucked in happily as the chatter continued around them.

Cassandra's head remained full of thoughts of Estrella and Galahad for the rest of the day. She valued her friends opinion and Cassie could see where she was coming from but Galahad wasn't some perverse old guy who just wanted into her panties. Jenkins was the nicest man she'd ever met, he was smart and kind and... well, a perfect gentleman as she'd said. The last gentleman.

She really was attached, there wasn't any getting away from that now. At first Cassandra had thought it would pass and that the only reason she'd been attracted to him was because he'd been so sweet and thoughtful, that had quickly revealed to be false. She wanted him. She didn't care how old he was or that she was an Escort, Cassandra didn't want his money she just wanted him; and Cassandra hadn't ever truly wanted to be with a man before.


End file.
